


The Life and Times

by nevereatdirt



Series: NEDWrites Oneshots [11]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, anmoeverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevereatdirt/pseuds/nevereatdirt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Dave Strider and you have had so many perfect firsts with John Egbert that you can hardly believe how lucky you are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Life and Times

**Author's Note:**

> Not proofed and a 3-6am writing fest. Still like it. Hope yall do too. Set in the ANMOE verse. Could be a brother fic/Prequel to [Types of Smiles.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/889544)

The first time you met him, you knew that he was a special kind of dummy. Adorable as fuck, but a special kind of dummy. You'd moved from Texas to Pennsylvania as a kid to, as Bro said “be closer to your fuckin' kin, now eat your goddamn hot pocket, Lil Man” before he went back out to a club for another gig. And on your first day at this new school you met the infallible John Egbert, king of the land of No Homo.

Or at least you thought he was. Until one day when the two of you were thirteen and he came over to your apartment. Your older brothers were out and Bro was working. So it was just the two of you.

Alone.

In your room.

Fantasies of terrible gay sex with him went through your pubescent brain and you had no idea just how terrible it was until a few years later when you and your boyfriend at the time started doing the do as you put it at the time.

But you sat in your room with John fucking Egbert. Watching his eyes dart over the words in the book he was reading before he put it down and looked at you. He bit his lip in the way that only he could with his huge, awkward teeth and his overbite and scratched the back of his neck. “Hey... Dave?”

You raised your still-white eyebrows at him. “What is it, Egbert?”

He chuckled, still biting his lip. Years later you'd miss some of pre-orthodontia John's bucktoothed grins, but in middle school? You couldn't get enough. “Have you ever... Kissed anyone?”

You smirked at him. “Maybe.”

His eyes widened and his mouth turned into that perfect little _O_. “Really?”

You snorted. Sexy. “No, John. Never been kissed.”

He swallowed shallowly, eyes still on yours. “Do you... Wanna try?”

“Hell fuckin' yeah.”

He moved closer to you. “With me?”

You moved forward and held his face close before pressing your lips to his softly. It was wet. And sloppy. And clumsy. But it was perfect. And beautiful. And fucking magic.

He let out a little sigh and moved back, kissing you. Your lips moved against each other and, even a decade later, you still remember the feeling of kissing him for the first time.

Unfortunately, Mr. Clueless started dating your cousin of all people, much to your chagrin.

Three years passed before the two of you did anything else.

Again you were home alone. No Bro. No brothers. Just the two of you again.

You'd gotten into Bro's stash, you knew he didn't fucking care, but the way it made John giggly and touchy made it worth it even if he _did_.

He didn't ask that time. He'd just pulled your face close and kissed you _so_ right and you kissed back. His tongue slipped into your mouth and yours danced against his. It was one of those perfect moments that you'd never forget. Ever.

But the next day he acted like he didn't remember. Acted like it never happened. Acted like Mr. Perfect Track Star would never do something like that. So you shrugged it off and hung out with some of your other friends, all the while _not_ mentioning the single most perfect make-out session you'd ever had.

Years later in your senior year, you laid in bed with your then-boyfriend Karkat after an amazing round of _doing the do_ and he just curled up next to you. You still remember how remarkable his pitch black hair and brown skin looked next to your translucent white. But this time he'd looked at you because he _knew_ that it was the last time. And he'd said as much.

And when you asked him why, he told you that he knew that he wasn't the one you really loved. And he was _okay_ with that. He was okay with not being the one you really wanted. He didn't like it. But he was okay.

And so you leaned down and you kissed him softly and you told him that you did love him, but that he was right. Although you don't admit it now, you cried as he held you in his strong, short arms and told him everything you loved about John Egbert.

He helped you make a plan to win him over now that the two of you were going off to college. You weren't roommates, but that was okay. You were going to the same school and that was enough.

So you pulled your plan off, even though he didn't know it was a date, and the two of you went to movies and out to dinner and to clubs until one day you found yourselves in his room.

Alone.

And his hand snaked over and your fingers twined together. You couldn't help but to smile when it happened.

And the two of you were content with your relationship. A few months in while the two of you made out, he asked if you'd ever given a blow job.

You smirked at him. “Why, you want to feel a Strider tongue your dong?”

He hit you in the chest with a laugh and bit his lip with his perfect, beautiful teeth. “I'm not so sure anymore! When you call it a _dong_ you ruin the move!”

You kissed down his chest and waggled your dyed-brown eyebrows at him. “I'll show you.” You unzipped his pants and took his tip in your mouth, making him sing for you. You watched as his tanned body flushed darkly and his mouth opened wide into that perfect fucking _O_. It didn't take long for you to make him come. He'd never been given head before and you were fucking _brilliant_ at it.

A year into your relationship he'd asked if he could fuck you. Not in those words. Never in those words with John Egbert. But he'd prepped you with caution and slid inside easily. He thrust slowly as he held your hips and that it was your turn to sing for him. He'd never slept with a man before, but he'd done his research and all of the anticipation you'd had to that first time had proven to be completely called for.

And now, years into your relationship, the two of you are laying in bed, limbs twined and smiling at each other. You lean in and press the softest of kisses to his bitten and chewed lips and he returns it with the softest of sighs. You smile at him and watch him as he laughs up at you, half blind without his glasses. “Dave?” His voice is quiet which makes you move in closer.

“Yeah, lovey dumpling?” You smirk. You know that he hates nicknames like that but you give them to him anyway. Once he told you that _anything is better than Egderp please not Egderp_ and you've respected that ever since.

“We've... you know. We've _done the do_ a lot.”

You chuckle at the fact that he still uses that phrase. For fuck's sake the two of you are twenty-three. He should be able to say that you're having sex. “Yeah, sweet cheeks, we done the do a lot. And?”

He swallows. “I... I wanna try something _different_.”

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows with a devious grin. You work in a fucking _sex shop_. You're more that aware of all the ways that the two of you could do things a little _different_.

“Well...” His face is flushed so darkly you'd almost swear that he and Karkat could be fucking related. “Maybe you could... Do the do... to me?” He looks away and you just roll away, laughing loudly.

“Oh shit. Shit, John you are the fuckin' cutest, you know that?”

“What?”

“That has to be the most adorable way I could think of someone to ask to be fucked. Wow.” You wipe a tear from your kind of red eyes and look back to him. “Yeah, sugarpie. I will so totally do that.”

He grins and before he can say anything else, you're kissing him again. He's already achingly hard and you grab the lube out from your bedside table, slicking your fingers to get him ready. “Dave?”

“Yeah honey bear?”

“Go slow...”

“Sure thing.” You press a reassuring kiss to his lips. “Just relax.” You can feel him trying to relax under you as you circle him lightly. He's too tight to just prod right into, so you tease him and he just fucking laughs.

“Dave that feels weird!”

“Good weird?” You keep up your movements.

“Yeah.” He swallows and you move the tip of your finger inside of him just ever so slightly. He hisses and you stay in place until he relaxes so you can move the rest of your finger in. As you move, his breathing speeds up and you stop when you think it looks like he can't take anymore. When he's back to a regular rate, you keep going and eventually you press in a second finger and eventually a third.

When you feel that he's stretched enough you pull out and he launches a little noise of complaint, but you shush him with a deep kiss as you open a condom and slide it on carefully. You're both _clean_ , but you don't want to ruin his first time being penetrated by making him have to awkward shuffle to the bathroom to clean himself out, after all.

You keep one hand at your base and hold his waist with his legs on your shoulders so that he's practically folded in half as you press into him. You're bigger than three fingers worth of stretching would prepare him for, but moving slowly and listening to his noises lets you know how's he's doing.

When you're inside of him completely, you rest your forehead against his and he smiles and laughs, pressing a needy his to your lips. “Dave this is fucking _tight_.”

You nip at his lips before you chuckle. “Sure is, buttercup. Ain't it great?” You're both panting and he just nods. “Can I move?” He takes a deep breath and nods again. You move slowly and watch him wince a little and you stop.

“No no, just keep going.” He leans up and kisses you again.

You move again, still slowly, and pick up the pace as you hear him moan and feel him writhe.

Much like the first time you gave him head, it doesn't take long to get him off. After all, he's never done this and you'd like to think that you're pretty damn good at it.

As you lay next to him, panting and spent, he pouts at you. “Dave...”

You smiled. “Yeah, tater tot?”

He frowns. “Tater tot?”

“Shit, Egbert, you wore me out and I'm hungry. Give a man a break.”

He sighs at you. “But you didn't even come, Dave.”

You shrug. “Don't have to. Not when I can look at your sexy face all night.” You wink at him and he rolls his eyes

“Dave, I am _not_ letting you get blue balls. What can I do?”

You grin and swallow nervously. “I ever tell you that I got, a uh, a bit of a daddy kink?”

He furrows his brow. “A daddy kink? Um... How so?” He tilts his head and your just want to reach out and tweak his nose. _No one_ has a right to be that fucking cute after getting fucked senseless.

“Well...” You rub the back of Your neck. “Like spanking and shit like that. And like, you know. Being dominated.”

His eyes widen. “I don't know if I can do that.”

You nod. “That's cool. Maybe just like watch me get myself off then. Tell me what a good boy I am.” You grin. “Lemme call you daddy.”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah sure!” He sets his face in that determined look he gets when he feels like he's out of his depth but doesn't want you to know. You don't think he knows that you know. And that's what makes it cute.

He sits up and sits over you, looking down as you peel off the wasted condom and begin to stroke yourself slowly. He rests his hands on your knees and he gives you a look that you can only assume is his best imitation of stern fatherly disapproval. “You're being a naughty boy, aren't you, David?”

You shudder a little. No one, and you mean _no one_ , calls you David. Not even Bro ever uses it. But it makes you believe that he's your daddy. And he knows it. “Yes, daddy.”

He bites his lip, watching you. “Is this how gentlemen behave?”

You realize that he's probably quoting things that his dad has actually said to him. And in this context it is weirdly hot. “No.”

“No, _what_?” He gives the side of your thigh a light slap and you wince with a little gasp of surprise and pleasure.

“No, daddy.”

He leans forward, grinning. “Do you want daddy to make you a good boy?”

“Yes, daddy.” You face is flushed a brilliant pink as you watch him, knowing that you're begging now.

He spreads your legs and takes you in his mouth. You whimper a little because he's still looking at you that way and it's turning you on to an unbearable level. He takes your tip into your mouth, swirling at the head with his tongue. His teeth scrape against you in _just_ the right way and you're already moaning for him.

It doesn't take much longer before he grips your thighs and you come, with his name on your lips.

He pulls off of you with a wet pop and swallows down what he can before wiping his lips with a grin. He lays next to you and kisses your neck. “Like that?”

You chuckle. “Maybe a little more next time. Didn't get much of a feeling of being a daddy's boy there.”

He nuzzles into your neck. “It was... Kinda fun!” He laughs. “I kinda like watching you get like that.”

“And I kinda like letting you talk like that. Were you just saying things that your dad's said to you?” You need to know. You _have_ to.

And he just laughs again. “Yeah I was, actually. Never in _that_ context, though!”

You ruffle his hair. “Of course not, sugar plum.”

He kisses your neck. “Love you, Dave.”

You kiss the top of his head. “Love you, too, John.”

Your time with this man has been perfect. Even the parts that have bean messy, have been perfect.

And something tells you that the two of you will never part until you die. And even then, you have high hopes for the afterlife.


End file.
